


Paper Planes

by special_nay



Series: Paper Hearts Series [2]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Childhood Memories, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-11-01 16:54:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17871086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/special_nay/pseuds/special_nay
Summary: Prague, the cute guy who almost drowned in his own big sweater, the vanilla scent he left, and... mysterious paper plane.[Sequel of Paper Hearts]





	1. PRAGUE

 

 

> Ten nejlepší pocit je, když se podíváte na něj a on se už na vás hledí. 

>  The best feeling is when you look at him and he is already staring.

 

 

* * *

 

_Snap._

The thin wispy layers or cirrus clouds spread from west, high above the castle-like buildings and high towers look like white silk upon blue canvas of sky. The morning sun that has started crawling up the west horizon gives them enough hue of yellow color. It is breathtakingly beautiful.

_Snap._

Below, the landscape was just as magnificent, if not more. Chanyeol loves to take pictures of sky, but what is under the sky now before him is something he rarely could witness. Working as a sore part of being adult forces him to be stuck in grey boring view of skyscrapers and busy city, that if he is lucky enough to have time to look outside windows because most of the times, all he could see just a pile of papers. But now, it is a small heaven for him. The Vltava River which flows through the heart of Prague is calm as ever, the water reflects everything the sky gives on it, the sky, the sun, the stone bridges that crossed over her. There are few cruises on her surface as well, sailing from southeast, look small from where Chanyeol is standing.

_Snap._

Chanyeol looks to his right. Fortunately, not many people yet on that side. And as if he couldn’t be any luckier, there was only one person there, standing just right under the second nearest vintage-looking street lamp facing the _Staroměstská věž_ _,_ _the Charles_ bridge tower at the end of Old Town. A guy (or was it girl with short hair? Judging from how petite his body looks) with white wool sweater two sizes too big for him that the hem reaches over his middle thighs and he looks almost drown on his own clothes. For a heartbeat, Chanyeol just stands there looking at him, mesmerized. The tall man thinks it was magical. How the sunrays of summer that morning shone upon his brown locks, forming a halo above his head. He looks like an angel standing there.

_Snap._ He takes another picture. Then two more of the same object. The guy walks forward and shifts slightly to the side. He looks up, seeming to adore one of the Baroque statues that are placed along either side of the bridge. Yet, he couldn’t see his face still.

_Snap. Snap._

A bunch of people swamp through him by then, chattering in foreign language and ruining what Chanyeol would call perfect sight. That angel is nowhere on his sight, hidden by a big man wearing grey shirt with ‘ _I love Prague’_ written on the back. He spins on his heels, looking for view worth to be taken picture of rather than a faded grey shirt. He decides on snapping more landscape of Prague in his Canon 7D Mark II.

_Snap. Snap. Snap._

Prague was indeed beautiful. People said it was the Paris from eighty century. Chanyeol couldn’t be any more agree. With all the old-looking, fairytales-like buildings, the city feels like dream comes true. He takes a lot more pictures on the bridge while he was there, each tower on either end of the bridge, the one on Old Town and the one on Lesser Town, few statues, even the lamp post.

Chanyeol isn’t a photographer or anything related to. He graduated from Harvard with business management master degree on his forehead and went back to Seoul to help his father running their family business.

“I’m not getting any younger,” his father would like to call him at wee hours of the night only to tell him this and Chanyeol would sleepily curse the large gap of time difference. It was 3 am and he needed his rest after sleeping for two hours finishing his assignments. “You need to graduate soon and replace me.”

More often than not, he would fall back to sleep hearing his father reciting the same advices (or more like demands) over and over or his mother’s incessant worries about whether he had eaten well or not.

Now though, after Chanyeol has come back and taken the lead on their business, his parents seem like having endless ideas to nag him about. And this new demand Chanyeol doesn’t like one bit.

_Snap. Snap. Snap._

It is July already. _Summer._ A reason why almost half population of Prague (if he may exaggerate) being poured onto the bridge. Chanyeol found himself almost lost in the wave of people coming from both sides, mostly couples or people in bunch, led bysomeone with loud kind voice talking in English as their guide. Being one of the most popular tourism site in Czech, every tourist would want to come here. Himself included.

Not Sehun, though. Not the famous model Oh Sehun. That guy of his is too busy with his fashion show and photoshoot.

_Snap. Snap._

He was squinting his eyes in front of the camera lens, focus to take a picture of one cruise coming near the bridge when something pokes his arm before lands on his feet.

A red paper plane.

 

***

 

            Chanyeol huffs in annoyance. He shoves the back of his fist in front of his lips in a poor attempt to suppress the yawn escaping his mouth. _This is getting boring._

He was all excited the first time he step his foot for the first time here, in the Veletržní Palác. Sure it wasn’t as grand as Louvre, but it has much more to admire. While the collections of the National Gallery are not housed in one single building but presented in a number of historic structures within the city of Prague, the building he is standing at houses the largest collections of them all, from Bohemian to modern art.

But it was like three hours ago, and now all Chanyeol wants is just to get done soon and gets back to his hotel room. Apparently, keep staring at the works of Van Gogh, Rodin, even Renoir was nice, but only for the first half of hours. And being in the spacious room for Picasso alone in the gallery with his two self-portraits and two nudes of himself didn’t help either. Especially the last ones. The rest in the gallery are mostly Czech and Slovak’s paintings and sculptures including works from… nevermind, he already forgets what did the guide say and he is deadly bored.

Damn all those photo shoots just few blocks away. It is only a part of photo shooting with some international magazine for next autumn issue. He thought it wouldn’t take so much time. Clearly now, he was wrong.

Chanyeol snapped back from his reverie as his phone vibrates in his pocket. One more of a heavy sigh couldn’t be prevented from escaping. His father is calling.

 _The old man is at it again,_ Chanyeol thinks while pressing the speaker on his ear and hums as a hello greeting.

“You’re still in Paris, aren’t you?” That’s his father’s ‘hello to you to’. His tone is demanding. Great. Just great. Before Chanyeol could even reply with ‘ _Prague, Dad! Prague!’_ , he continues. “You have no business there. Get back here soon! Don’t forget you have a very important appointment this weekend!”

At the ‘very important appointment’, Chanyeol rolls his eyes. He can’t even get it why now his father is so persistent to set him up with his business relative’s son Chanyeol even has never met. His father wasn’t that kind of person before. And he knows Chanyeol has Sehun…. Well, technically Sehun isn’t Chanyeol’s boyfriend, not officially. But they have been going out for years, both of their parents know this. Chanyeol had bought a ring, a year ago, thinking to ask Sehun out for real, asking the tall handsome model to spend the rest of his life with him.

But he didn’t.

Somehow he didn’t yet. As if there is something holding him back that he doesn’t know of. Something that doesn’t feel right.

“Get back home, Chanyeol! Why must you follow Sehun everywhere like a puppy?! Your mother is worried. Now if you don’t come back, I will burn all your rillakumas—“

“Fine! Fine! I’ll fly back soon. Are you happy?” Chanyeol beats him to his father’s wroth. _Wow that old man using my rillakuma collection again in this_! “I’m hanging up now?! Bye, Dad.”

Chanyeol didn’t realize he was wandering around while on his phone. When Chanyeol drifts his gaze back to the walls, it is Alphonse Mucha with his masterpiece _The Slav Epic_ that serves him view. And a beautiful back of a man. And a strong sweet vanilla scent. And somehow, it all combined is enough to hit his sense and numb his brain. It is as if, out of nowhere, in that closed room, Chanyeol can feel the wind blows when he look at that back, green-grass thin cashmere jacket and sky blue jeans and honey-colored hair that smells truly sweet.

Instantly in that moment, Chanyeol is dying of two things; to get his breathe back, and… to see his face. Or her? He was so small and fragile…and just beautiful. So beautiful. So he took a long step to stand next to the small guy and, very subtly (according to him), looks to his side, where he finds the sight even Monalisa couldn’t compare to. He has a perfect side profile that Chanyeol finds it hard for his heart to beat normally.

The next moment, Chanyeol would kill all people in the gallery just to get to know his name. He looks Asian, Chanyeol could make that similar cause as an excuse. The greeting was already on the tip of his tongue, but before he could get the small male’s attention, his phone rings again.

Chanyeol almost curses at his own boyfriend which for a moment ago, he forgot he had.

“Baby I’m done. I’m so tired now. Pick me up now.”

The connection soon cut by the caller himself. Chanyeol would like to call it Sehun’s style, always walks with his chin up and do whatever he likes, either people likes it too or not. But sometimes he wonders why is he stuck with that brat as his boyfriend.

Probably because he had known Sehun for half his life. Probably because he hasn’t met that many potential lovers. Or probably… he just hasn’t met the one as he would like to claim Sehun be.

When Chanyeol shoves is phone back to his pocket for the second time after turning it off, the male beside him already gone.

Chanyeol looks around. He was about to follow path where he probably was going to but something crunches under his shoes.

_A green paper plane._

Chanyeol saves it to his pocket, and later to his drawer along with the other paper plane.

 

***

               

            “You are going back to Korea?!” Sehun grumbles, the way he crosses his arms all are Chanyeol needs to confirm how furious he is right now.

“I have works too, Sehun-ah. I can’t be away this long.”

The model scoffs and rolls his blue eyes. “Fine! Just go back to your _daddy_ if you so much not want to be here with me.”

“Sehun...,” Chanyeol lets out a frustrated sigh as he runs his fingers through soft black hair. He takes a seat in front of Sehun who was too busy scrolling down his instagram newsfeed, or trying to look so. He takes the phone away and grabs Sehun’s hands, successfully getting all of the other male’s attention now.

“What are we?”

He said it. He finally said it. The question that had been clinging in the corner of his mind for so long that it starts to rust; it’s now escaped and hangs in the air. They aren’t boyfriends…. Years ago Chanyeol had confessed, saying how he loved Sehun. But none the same ‘I love you’ came in return. Not the day after, not a month, not a year… not even years later. Maybe, not even now. Sehun just holds him, doesn’t let him go but doesn’t take him either.

And Chanyeol feels so stupid.

He is disappointed, even until now after he knows all to well, he still feels so. But it’s not surprising.

“I will… take some fresh air then.”

As Chanyeol gets up and leaves the hotel… he takes in the warmth of the night. To his surprised, he doesn’t feel so wrecked like he expected himself to be. He feels more… relieved? Now that everything is clear. He fishes out a small velvet box from his pocket and studies the white gold ring there.

He purchased them a year ago. But never had the chance to propose…. And he doesn’t know why. It’s just… doesn’t feel right.

He feels as if he was waiting for someone all this time. But who? Who? When all this time it was Sehun by his side.

 

 

***

 

                On his third day in Prague, Chanyeol decided to lurk around the Old Town Square, looking for other breath-taking views to be saved in his Canon and he might as well go shopping. By himself, of course. Even if they had no fight earlier that day, Sehun is still tight scheduled for his photo shoots. He has no time for the likes of Chanyeol.

Chanyeol takes a deep breathe. He comes here for his last day in Prague, for air, for freedom. Not for sulking around.

They didn’t call Prague the City of 1000 spires for no reason. After climbing the Old Town Bridge’s Tower, Chanyeol can see why. With camera in his hand, more often than not to be used, Chanyeol spent almost three hours without realizing it. He went from The Church of Our Lady before Tyn, a Gothic style church with its remarkable two un-identical signature towers, to the lovely building Kinsky Palace with its delicate pink and white stucco façade. And last, of course, he had shopped souvenirs in Havel Market, went as far as to bargain the prize with his limited Czech.

It was almost sunset. As he gathers in the City Hall together with hundreds other tourists wanting to see the changing of hour at astronomical clock with its chronometer and zodiac below, and 12 apostles rotating inside the clock, a familiar gentle tug pokes on his back. He turns around on reflex, only to see hundreds of foreign face. None of them seem to give any attention to him.

The thing that makes Chanyeol turning on his heels in a matter of millisecond and pushes through the crowd is, a yellow paper plane he found on his feet.

Pocketing the yellow little paper plane, Chanyeol forces his long legs to run against the flow of people. His neck snaps to all direction while his eyes try their best to sweep through every object possible.

 _Who sends him those paper planes?_ It can’t be any coincidence anymore. 3 days  straight and he got 3 paper planes. Chanyeol didn’t know what is it for and he must find out today.

Unfortunately, as he is standing there, looking lost in the middle of the street, he can’t find the culprit.

Then a crushing sound behind drags his back from his thoughts.

“Hey! Be careful!” someone shouts in accented English then curses in something sounds like Spanish.

Chanyeol saw a white man with pink face, almost bald in the center of his head. He was on his bicycle and another guy, younger and smile and look Asian with his brown hair and small eyes trying to get up from the ground but to no avail. It seems like the bicycle had crushed on him and to Chanyeol’s dismay, people around just watch them, or simply ignore. So he crosses the street and helps the guy to stand up while the white bald man riding his bike away without so much of apologize. As Chanyeol pulls the man up and the jolt on his knee sending him to fall back if not for Chanyeol’s arms securing him, a wave of familiarity washes through the taller.

Have they ever met before?

The man looks up at him. Small face, button nose, thin pouty lips, and droopy eyes that reminds Chanyeol of puppies looks up at him. That instant, Chanyeol’s breathe gets caught in his throat.

 _Isn’t he the_ _side-profile guy from yesterday visit in the gallery_? The same guy that made Chanyeol forgot how to breathe. It was the same brown hair, the same nose... the same vanilla scent lingers in the air around them. And if his side profile only was able to numb Chanyeol’s system, Chanyeol has no word for now. For when that pair of innocent eyes blinking at him before he quickly witdraws himself.

Chanyeol believes every first meet is a coincidence. The second one is... a chance. Whether he would do something to make the other person stays or brushed away from his memory. And somehow, he wants it to be the first choice.

So without so much of sense left in his half-frozen brain, he braces himself and reaches his hand out. A chance. _It’s now or never._

“Hi. I’m Chanyeol. Are you Korean too?” He said with a smile that he hopes appear to be friendly instead of creepy, tilting his head a bit to examine the smaller guy. _And God, is he even real?_

The small guy smiles and brushes his fingers against Chanyeol’s opened palm for a brief moment. He has a soft hand, and a beautiful one.

_But he didn’t say his name._

Chanyeol flashes a wide awkward smile, trying to look nonchalant and hide the dejection he is feeling. It’s rare. No one ever turned him down, really. The smaller returns his smile, or so it seems before he winches and clutches his now ripped jeans.

“Are you hurt? Let me help you.”

They end up in a small two-story house café just a little hidden by the larger buildings. Since the small man Chanyeol hadn’t known the name can’t take up the wooden stairs, they choose the table on the terrace. The café was cozy, to say the least. It was homey, with plants and flowers on its small garden and wooden furniture.

Chanyeol orders two cups of coffee and two plates of _t_ _rdelník_ as the pastry. Both of their orders come before long. The coffee was steamy and has a strong delicious smell while the pastry, made from rolled dough that is wrapped around a stick, then grilled until it turns slightly brownish is warm to the touch, greasy with sugar and walnut mix as the topping. Chanyeol pushes the plate to the smaller, who seems to busy himself studying the yellow roses before him.

“Eat. Does your leg feel better now?”

While they were waiting for their orders, Chanyeol had asked for aid kit and threatened to the wound himself, after so much of refusal from the smaller but couldn’t help but agree on the end. Chanyeol had smirk, because he wasn’t called as stubborn from his father for nothing. He cleaned the small wound thoroughly, and felt a pair of eyes heavy on him.

“What’s wrong?” He had looked up, meeting their gazes which the latter soon shifted away.  

He looks fragile, and scared.

 _And again, he only shook his head._ That’s all he did, nodding and shaking his head. Without uttering a word.

The guy Chanyeol would like to call _t_ _rdelní_ now in his mind, (since they smell almost the same, sweet, vanilla scent) now takes a bite of his pastry and smiles before takes another large bite. _He likes it,_ Chanyeol thinks, as he stops sipping his coffee just to witness the beams on the other’s face. Once again, his lungs seemingly forget to function.

They didn’t exchange conversation, but somehow the silence is comforting and Chanyeol doesn’t want it to end soon. But _t_ _rdelní_ has other ideas as he stands on his feet.

“Where are you going?”

Again, no answer. _T_ _rdelní_ leaves some Czech Koruna on the table and turns on his heels. But before he could walks away, Chanyeol holds his hand, his soft hand, they fingers barely brush together.

“Will we  ever be meeting again?” Chanyeol asked as the smaller looks at him.

To Chanyeol’s surprise, _T_ _rdelní_ fishes out a small paper from his small bag and writes on it.

 

Do you believe in fate?

 

He puts the paper on Chanyeol’s palm and walks. Two steps and he turns again, giving Chanyeol a longing stare before his small lips parted of what Chanyeol expected to be him finally saying his name. Yet instead, ten beautiful fingers dance in the air, clapping hands in front of his chest and two fingers before one of his eyes, shaking them.

_I hope to see you again later._

Chanyeol doesn’t know what those gestures mean. One thing he now knows, though…. _Trdelní can’t speak._

It was much later after the guy left, the vanilla scent remained faintly. Chanyeol is nourishing the hopes to see him again in such fate whilst finishing his coffee when he examines the paper again. And realization hits him hard in the face.

It is a the blue sky paper. _Origami paper._ Red, green, yellow, and now blue.

Chanyeol almost stumbled on his feet as he runs for the street. He stops a taxi and runs back to his hotel room to fetch the paper planes he had collected.

Red, green, yellow, and now blue.

With shaking hands, he smoothens the red one and finds a message tidily written on the inside of now crumpled paper.

 

Hi. I want to say that it’s nice to meet you and you are so handsome, but I have no courage too. Black cap suits you : )

 

Chanyeol takes the green paper plane.

 

I don’t want to sound creepy but… I like to see you… I wish I can always near you… I’m so happy I have a chance to!

PS: That ripped black jeans of yours are killing me send help!!!

 

The yellow one.

 

Umm… what to say? I like you… I like you ever since the first time I saw you.

PS: Do you believe in fate?

               

***

 

The morning before his flight back to Seoul, Chanyeol visited the bridge again, the gallery, the city hall, the café, all the places he had been again. That smell… he can’t forget. He wishes he can see that angel face again, even just for the last time.

He waits and waits and waits, the statue in front of the cubist lamp post where he is standing now smiles smugly at him as he waits. And that person doesn’t come. Of course he wouldn’t.

Today is the weekend. Chanyeol is supposed to meet the future husband his parents had picked for him. But here he is now, desperately wanting to see that guy again.

And so he waits and waits and waits. Until the night falls. And that small guy who almost drowned in his own clothes, that tiny guy who smells like vanilla, like pastry, that beautiful guy who flied paper planes and lands it on the corner of Chanyeol’s heart doesn’t come.

_He never comes._

 

_To Be Continued_

 


	2. SEOUL

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First meeting is coincidence. The second one is a chance. And the third one? It's fate.

* * *

* * *

**SEOUL**

* * *

* * *

 

> **만약 인생을 다시 산다면 당신을 더 빨리 찾을 겁니다.**
> 
> If I were to live my life again, I’d find you sooner.

_Tap. Tap._

_ For a reason, this was the first destination I came to. An old stone bridge that took its name after King Charles IV. It was morning and the view seemed to be what you would describe heaven like; it was as beautiful as dream and more. With the calm river and the cruises and the old-fashioned statues, all under the glow of morning sunlight. _

_ Enter. Tap. _

_ Charles Bridge was one of the oldest building in Prague as well as the oldest bridge. Unlike his cousin, Judith Bridge, Charles Bridge had survived many floods, thanks to the eggyolk the builders had mixed with the semen- _

_ Okay that sounds like a page from Wikipedia. Deletedeletedelete. _

_ Tap. _

_ I closed my eyes, and secretly loving the morning air, somehow chill and tasted like rain last night. When I open my eyes back, though, I felt like I was Alice, getting lost in a land of fairies. _

_ And... it was thrilling too, knowing I was breathing the same chill air with him. _

_ Tap. Tap. _

_ There was this reason I came to Prague. He was wearing black cap and denim jacket, and black Balenciaga sneakers. He got the most weird and beautiful smile in the world, and I caught myself never regretting this short trip here— _

Baekhyun sips his coffee quietly for the nth time without taking his eyes off the screen of his laptop. His slender fingers resume dancing furiously on the white keyboard, as if afraid things that are going on in his head would puffed into air and disappear if he doesn’t pour them into writing quick enough. Tens of photographs scattered on the table, almost leaving no space on the wooden surface. The same pictures also appear on his laptop’s screen, trapped in between Baekhyun’s puke of words.

These past few weeks, a little over a month, Baekhyun hadn’t been able to update his blog. It is a personal blog Baekhyun has been managing for over three years. He writes about anything; from some experiences he’d like to share, review of some unique and heavenly dishes, places he had visited, and sometimes even his personal feelings. He has a plenty enough of readers by now who would drop comments here and there, mostly compliment but some are teasing him. _They are nice._ Baekhyun would always smile while replying to those comments. And in those moments, for once, he feels like he’s no different from others. From people who can speak.

Baekhyun pushes up his reading glasses that fell down to his nose. His eyes dominantly reviewing what he just typed for the past couple of hours. He would retype here and there, fixing the typo or editing few sentences. In less than ten minutes, a smile gazes upon his lips. All is good, except the last paragraphs. The last personal sentences that make him bite his lips, debating between Baekhyuns in his head whether or not he really should post those.

_ —-because at the end of the trip, Reason noticed me. He offered me his warm hands and asked for my name, which I failed to answer because I was so nervous >,< not that he would understand shaky hands speak anyway. _

_ Reason smiled to me, and that is all matter. Reason wants to see me again, and I want too… I really want to see him again. _

After a long moment of hesitation, the male whose hair just dyed honey color decides to just screw with it and clicks the post button there. When it is successfully posted, he slumped his back against the couch he was sitting, finally realizes how his back screaming for rest.

His small eyes, touched by thin eyeliner flicker from his laptop screen to the mess on his table through the round specs. His second latte that morning remained half of the cup, the plate of cupcakes the shapes of LINE sticker faces mostly empty but for a remaining Brown cupcake smiling at him. And then, of course, the most noticeable ones as they’re scattered everywhere. Baekhyun collects them all into a pile and looks at the pictures again one by one.

The picture on the first front of his pile is of a Baroque statue, Baekhyun remembers it was also the first picture he took on his first day in Prague. Then in row there are two pictures of Vltava River with cruises on its calm water, taken within the same half of hour with the statue. The others were a picture of Old Town’s tower, some more pictures of both people and sites: Old Town Square, Kinsky Palace, the street, the buildings, and many, many pictures of a man. A certain tall man with jet black hair styled up and smile so bright Baekhyun wonders why hasn’t he on television yet, modelling for some toothpaste commercial. 

He likes to wear the same outfit. Black shirt, a denim jacket and black cap, the first time Baekhyun saw him. He wore them again when he saw him in Old Town Square. But even so, Baekhyun couldn’t blame the cap, or the seemingly unwashed jacket, and obviously not the shirt, he still could rob many hearts with or without him changing clothes. Just to his unfortunate, Baekhyun mostly could only get some snaps of his back, or faraway side profile; half shy and half fear of the prospect of getting caught. He dreams one day he could watch him up close without running away, smiling to him with that rich grin of his.

_ Only dream,  _ his mind seems to whisper. And dreams bond to disappeared, forgotten the moment you wake up. And Baekhyun is wondering whether he already awake now or still holding into the dream.

That guy supposed to be his future husband, Baekhyun sighs. He still remembers he couldn’t help but blushing the moment his father told him about the marriage.

“You’re going to marry Chanyeol. That Chanyeol you used to play with when you were little.”

Baekhyun’s first reaction was to shot the old small man a glare before running for the comfort of his room, just to hide his face which was as red as angry Mr. Krab.

That night, Baekhyun could not sleep. He tossed around and bit his lips hard he was surprised it wasn’t bleeding. Chanyeol… Chanyeol… Chanyeol was all in his thoughts. He remembered Chanyeol, he remembered him well, knew him well in his memories just like the back of his hand. The lanky teenager who was taller than he have to even in his 15th years old. Baekhyun was the same age yet he was small, lonely and had no friends. He didn’t go to school, not after constant bullies he always got since he was kindergarten to elementary. So, when Chanyeol popped up in front of his door with a white rose on his hand aiming for Baekhyun and smiled so wide it hurt, the smaller couldn’t help but found his first love right there and then.

Even after ten years, his feeling never changes. Chanyeol was his first and only crush. Even they had only spent ten days together and never once met again, even a horrible feeling of Chanyeol’s reaction to meet him later kept eating him up, Baekhyun couldn’t help but… but smiling all the night.

Yet that day when they were supposed to meet, he waited and waited and waited, purposely losing his rest after the long flight, hoping against hope he would see him there in the café he had chosen around the neighbourhood of Sinsa-dong. The same café he is now. But until nightfall and he must remove himself out, that certain tall giant never come.

Another appointment was arranged one week later. Still, he didn’t come. Nor did he in the grand party Baekhyun’s father have thrown for the anniversary of his company. All his business partners were invited. Baekhyun was shy, always been shy. But he came that night only to meet Chanyeol’s parents cooing after him. But not the giant himself. It was as if he purposely retreats himself from being in Baekhyun’s presence.

Baekhyun can’t blame him though. Their meeting, however are arranged by their parents, their marriage, if that possible. _And who would accept arranged marriage nowadays_? He probably also had known by now about his disability and steps back earlier than Baekhyun would have thought.

He has a boyfriend too, Baekhyun reflects. Automatically he heaves another deep sigh and leans his head against the shoulder of a fluffy Brown Bear plushie in size bigger than him who is sitting just at the edge of the couch. The plushie gives no sign of annoyance, however, being squished between Baekhyun and the wall.

_ Oh Sehun, a beautiful tall man, _ Baekhyun keeps musing in not so pleasant way, _with flawless skin and face so handsome and elegant_. To top it all, he is a model too. International model adored by many men. Baekhyun can’t even compare himself to his toe.

A flash of camera snapped at his direction pulls Baekhyun back to reality. He snaps his head to the source of the interruption to see a familiar face. His fast heart rate calms down beat by beat immediately.

“You’re daydreaming,” the newcomer said while he spread ten fingers then made a motion of pulling something out of his head using index finger. 

_ How long has he been here?  _ Baekhyun wonders.

Do Kyungsoo is already sitting across his table. When and how, Baekhyun has no clue. He points at the man as small as him (if not smaller) and touches his temple using his thumb with pinky out trying to ask how long the other had been sitting there which was only responded by the very short-haired male with a shrug. 

“Long enough to witness the frown on your face, and that pout” he said at least after taking a bite of the remaining cupcake on Baekhyun’s plate.

For Baekhyun, Kyungsoo is his only friend. They met at a bookstore, almost reaching for the same book of Speak & Hear, a collection of real-life stories from people who couldn’t do what the title suggested. Kyungsoo was showing high interested to people like him. He knew sign language almost as good as Baekhyun and soon, the two became inseparable. Maybe that explains why Baekhyun doesn’t try to smack the other’s hand away from his cake. Or maybe because he just has no more energy to.

“Is it that Chanyeol dude again?”

Baekhyun chokes on his saliva. Do Kyungsoo has a weird six sense of knowing things. He always has his way even when Baekhyun doesn’t want him to.

“I told you to move on,” he continues, not minding the irritation and flinch Baekhyun is showing to hear the same advice again. “—and take my offer, you know.”

Baekhyun’s lips automatically turn into a pout. Since a week ago, Kyungsoo has insisted Baekhyun should move on and go on a date. As if it was that easy. When a ten year gap of time couldn’t, why Kyungsoo thinks a month could change his mind now?

He was about to ask Kyungsoo the question as the said male moves to sit on a vacant space next to him, the camera of his phone now angling for both of their faces.

“Baek, let’s take a selca.”

Baekhyun frowns. Do Kyungsoo taking a selca is almost as impossible as Mongryong can speak English, or Spanish, or Japanese. Yet when he sees the screen of the latter’s phone already counts down to snap pictures, Baekhyun can’t help but smile his bestest smile.

The honey-haired talks with his hands again, making a digging motion and a gesture of playing with phone screen. He has meant to ask if Kyungsoo just bought new phone but he doubts the other catches the glimpse of his question at all, judging by how focus he looks examining the pictures they just took.

“Uh, oh, nope,” Kyungsoo replies after almost a minute. He doesn’t seem to have ever look up from his phone at all.

_What’s the occasion then?_ Baekhyun presses again.

A shrug. Baekhyun waits patiently but nothing more of appropriate answer to come making his frown is getting visible. He was about to demand for answer when Kyungsoo holds up his camera again to Baekhyun’s face.

“Smile, Baek,” he orders.

_What?_

Baekhyun wants to shot him a glare but the camera is before him and there is no way he will let himself look ugly on Kyungsoo’s phone (the later might use it to blackmail him someday, Baekhyun convinced), so holds up two fingers and tries to be appear cute. A smile on Kyungsoo’s lips confirm Baekhyun enough that he didn’t fail, at least not that much.

_Okay so what was that for_ _ — _

Of course. At the least Baekhyun let out a huff of annoyance and slaps his hands on his thighs. Of course Kyungsoo wouldn’t hear him out again. The guy already is busy with his phone again, typing something away. He giggles silently and as Baekhyun tries to peek, Kyungsoo is way quicker to hide it. 

“What?”

_Are you seeing someone?_ With a wiggle of eyebrow as his index making circle up. He snaps his fingers more than necessary, a result of mixed annoyance, curiosity, and purely excited. 

However, Kyungsoo crushes down his friend’s hope for him to finally get laid with a flat face. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

Baekhyun holds his hands up again in the air, ready to attack Kyungsoo with questions and motherly demands. Just Kyungsoo’s luck, though, a notification popped up on Baekhyun’s forgotten laptop screen. The blogger soon forget what he was about to say and opts to pay attention to his loyal readers. Baekhyun clicks the notification to be guided to his latest post in his blog.

A new username had left a comment.

**Knightpuppy:** Hi, I am your new reader and soon to be number one fan! I love your posts. I love it more every time you talk about _‘reason’_ guy! <3 Anyway, I’ve been to Prague as well. Agree to you, it was beautiful and heaven-like. I saw an angel myself.

 

***

 

            Baekhyun was raised well-loved and educated with moral values and etiquettes by his parents. Thus, he knows that lying is bad, stealing is bad, killing is bad, and… stalking, that’s bad. That’s crossing other’s privacy and that’s creepy. Very creepy.

But that doesn’t explain why he was standing behind a hat stall just around the shopping district of Myeongdong, clad in black outfits from head to toe; included black cap wore so low he almost can see nothing, black XL-sized hoodie and sunglasses like those in action movies. The only different color on him was a pink mask with puppies printed on it that he is wearing. Not ten meters away before him was a certain tall giant walking casually with his black cap, white t-shirt and jacket just like other young CEOs would spending their weekend, unaware that he was being spied. 

Half an hour ago, Baekhyun caught himself hugging the tree just in front of Chanyeol’s house, waiting for the giant to emerge from his luxury cave to ever so secretly stalk behind. Kyungsoo had called him crazy for the idea yet at the end he couldn’t change Baekhyun’s mind and just wished him good luck.

“If the police ask you,” he said, “remember that you speak Chinese and I don’t know any Byun.”

_But I speak sign language!_ Baekhyun had argued, hands flailing in the air in desperate manner.

“Yeah, whatever.” Kyungsoo had rolled his eyes.

He just… wants to know, is all. Chanyeol never comes to his arranged meeting with Baekhyun. Prague, almost two months ago, was the last time Baekhyun had seen him, if the dozens of pictures don’t count. And Baekhyun missed him. He knows he should just give up, that there is no possibility of Chanyeol liking him back, even a bit, just enough to give him a chance. There is no such thing by the way he avoids seeing Baekhyun.  But somehow, deep inside, Baekhyun still finds himself hoping. Maybe it is how he worried over Baekhyun the last time they encountered? Maybe the way he smiled at him. Or the mere fact that Chanyeol did ask if they will ever meet again.

He had been thinking. Today will be the last. He will to see Chanyeol and know the reason. _The first meeting is coincidence, the second is the chance._ Now he is going to catch the chance, no matter how small.

When Chanyeol abandons the street food stall he was peering over after taking a small bite of meat the kind lady had offered to turn left on the intersection, Baekhyun quickly emerges from his hiding place. He tries to ignore the weird look the lady from hat stall throwing his way as he is in a hurry, and he doesn’t want to lose the track of the giant.

He would trail few meters behind. And if Chanyeol ever turn his head to look around the direction he is standing, Baekhyun would turn around as well, pretending to take a look at whatever it is in front of him. Twice, it happens. And once Baekhyun is forced to pretend picking some women’s bra since it is what before him. He has no time to run to other shop. A bunch of girls shopping there look at him, whispering and giggling to each other, Baekhyun is kind of glad he couldn’t hear a thing, he doesn’t even want to know what they are talking about. One more of Chanyeol looking behind and Baekhyun could swear, he will die of another heart attack.

Fortunately, Chanyeol doesn’t. The guy stops in front of a flower shop. That makes Baekhyun stuck at the shop next to it, _thankfully_ it is only an accessories shop. His slender fingers lift up a bunny ear that catches his attention while the corner of his eyes following the steps Chanyeol takes inside the shop until the man had disappear from his view. Baekhyun cranes his neck, trying to have a look on what Chanyeol’s business inside but to no avail. So he settles back on the bunny ear before him, it is soft baby pink with fur so soft that Baekhyun can’t help but to remove his cap to try the headband. He smiles on the mirror as he is checking his own reflection.

_ Cute enough, at least not that ugly.  _ He clutches the bunny ear in his hands and calls the shop keeper.

When Chanyeol steps out of the shop with a bouquet of sunflowers in his hand, all Baekhyun’s previous intention to buy some accessories puffed into air.

_ To whom he is going to give the flowers? _

It is getting hard then. It is hard to keep up with Chanyeol’s long strides, Baekhyun finds himself half jogging on his short legs. It is also hard to keep running when his legs turn all jelly just by the thoughts of Chanyeol, flowers, and Saturday mixed together.

He doesn’t have to wait so long, at least. Chanyeol abruptly stops in front of a café which name Baekhyun has no time to register. Because someone already walks out of the café, his pretty smile is evidence as he reaches Chanyeol. 

Oh Sehun gives the taller male a brief hug and a kiss on the cheek.  

And Baekhyun’s world crumbles down once again.

Baekhyun followed Sehun on his Instagram. In this past two months, he found Sehun no longer post pictures of him and Chanyeol, even the old photos that had Chanyeol on it was deleted. Somehow he feels bad but he had thought that they are done.

Clearly now that they are not. Clearly now that this is the answer he is looking for.

Leaning his back against whatever building it is, Baekhyun quickly fishes out his phone and opens his chat with Kyungsoo. But no, his shaky hands can’t type even a word coherently. How can he? When his heart beating like crazy and the center of his universe rotating for another universe.

So he dials Kyungsoo’s number. He can’t even hear a thing, whether the guy pick it up or not. Nor he can say anything. He feels his throat constricted and his eyes burn, and all of him getting numb. Before long, he knows he is crying his pieces of scattered heart out.

On the other end of the line, Kyungsoo pick up his phone to a sobbing mess.

 

***

 

                The analog watch on his wrist shows  6:14 and Baekhyun sees the sun is almost setting down on the west horizon. The day has become shorter and shorter. _It is autumn already,_ he reflects.

Baekhyun doesn’t take a seat yet, though there are some of them, two until four single chairs with a round white table in between, all unoccupied. Instead, he stands between rows of roses to peek at the view of Seoul under him, the streets are busy as always, gleaming under the orange light of sunset. The same color that paints the sky with plenty of beautiful gradations. Around him is a garden full of blooming roses, rows of different colors made into such a maze. Sky Rose Garden, it is called, a beautiful garden atop the height of Daehan cinema in Chungmuro.

It is a rare sight to see, breath-takingly beautiful that Baekhyun would enjoy to the fullest if not for the nervousness behind his clamped hands or his shaky breathe. What he saw last week in Myeongdong brought him to Kyungsoo’s arms crying and led him to agreeing on the offer Kyungsoo had always been dotting him on. Half of him still feels like he isn’t ready, never will, but Baekhyun forces himself to come here.

His ten years crush on Chanyeol must end today. _This blind date will end it_ , Kyungsoo had confidently stated. 

_As if it would be as easy._  

Baekhyun huffs and pulls his sleeves to cover more of his knuckles. As the sky getting darker, the weather is getting cold. They are to meet at **6** sharp and Baekhyun had come ten minutes earlier but on the other hand, his blind date partner doesn’t show up yet.

Getting bored, he fetches his phone again to text the culprit behind this useless date.

 

**To: Kyungjja**

**_He is not coming :’(_ **

 

Even he can hear his own whine in the text.

               

** From: Kyungjja **

**_Wait, princess._ **

 

** To: Kyungjja **

**_What if he forgets? Or lost? Or lazy? Or can’t find me?_ **

****

Baekhyun looks around at his surroundings. It is almost impossible for his blind date not to be able to find him. The Sky Rose Garden is empty. To that, Baekhyun frowns. Though it is not as popular as Namsan Tower or Lotte World, the place is just as pretty, a perfect place for date on a Saturday evening before watching a movie just down the rooftop.

 

** From: Kyungjja **

**_He will find you. And when you see him, you will know._ **

 

Baekhyun pouts at Kyungsoo’s reply. _What does he mean that Baekhyun will know? That egg-head didn’t even give a bit of clue!_

Some negative thoughts start to form in his head. What if his blind date is a creep? Baekhyun will be kidnapped and he will be chopped in some dirty alleys, his kidneys will be sold in some black market and Baekhyun didn’t even given a chance to tell his parents how much he love them. Or Chanyeol. Or Chanyeol even just for once.

Shaking his head to shoo away those crazy scenarios, he is just about to shove his phone back to his pocket when a notification pops out. It’s from his blog again. Baekhyun hastily opens it.

It’s Knightpuppy. Again. The username had left plenty of comments, on almost each of Baekhyun’s post ever since his first comment about Prague. Now he comments again on the latest post on top of his precious one.

Yet it is only a plain link. No description, no title, no clue on what link it is. Baekhyun hesitates for a moment. At this point, he knows he has been thinking the worst too much and this is the Knightpuppy, the one who made him smile at night reading the funny comments.

The next second, Baekhyun clicks it.

The link brought him to a plain blog, simple and poorly decorated but not a sore of eyes to look upon. There is only one post without a title or whatsoever. Just rows of pictures. Lots of pictures, it seems. Of Prague. There was the river and the cruise, the statues and the tourist. There is a caption under.

 

** “Prague, the city of a thousand isles. A city of fairy tale.” **

 

He scrolls down further. There is a town square. Kinsky palace… then Baekhyun gasps.

There. There is a picture, a back of a man under morning light, wearing a sweater he recognizes.

The caption under the picture read **“Prague, and a cute guy who almost drowned in his own clothes.”**

Baekhyun’s hands start to shake, his heart hammering against his ribs as if to break it. It is only a miracle that he doesn’t drop the phone in his hands yet. Instead, he scrolls more.

There’s more pictures of the same back, sometimes side profile. Taken at different places, different outfits. And it’s not Prague anymore. Most are taken in Seoul. Baekhyun’s slender finger freezes at certain picture anyway.

 It is him. Last week. Clad in black. Wearing pink bunny ears.

Was he being stalked instead of stalking?

Then as if it is not enough of surprise, Baekhyun finds his own picture smiling awkwardly at the camera. He sees the Brown Bear at the back and soon realizes where the picture had been taken.

_Kyungsoo took it. But why- who was he chatting to-_

 

** “ _Prague, the guy who almost drowned in his own clothes, the vanilla scent he left, and…”_ **

 

Empty. There is no more picture. There is no more words or explanation.

Baekhyun clutches the phone to his chest and looks at the sky, it’s getting dark already. He feels dizzy and his feet swaying.

_Just… what is this all?_

Something tugs on Baekhyun’s thighs and he automatically looks down to his back. _Paper plane._ A blue sky paper plane lands around his feet. 

_Do you believe in fate?_ The same question is written inside the paper plane.

Baekhyun thought his hands couldn’t be any shakier. But apparently, it could. When he looks up, a very big bouquet, a hundred of red roses blooming before his eyes, hiding a face of the man holding the flowers.

Then he sees him. He is there. Park Chanyeol is there.

All the blood left him as Chanyeol flashes him that rich smile again. He is numb when the guy takes his hand and places the rose in his head. It is so heavy Baekhyun almost drops it.

The series of events happened in less than ten minutes feels like a dream. But it all was nothing compared to what Baekhyun witnesses now. 

Chanyeol spreads his fingers and rubs his chest twice with palm barely brushing, he points his eyes with two fingers and points at Baekhyun, awkwardly patting four of his fingertips to the heels of his other palm.

_Glad to see you… again._

 

***

 

                “After I learnt that… you speak this way,” Chanyeol moves his hands in the air animatedly that Baekhyun can’t help but smile. “ —I  signed up for the class.”

They are now sitting on one of the table in the center of the garder but near the edge enough just so they still can see the dark sky. Stars are not yet appear, but the fat crescent moon had shown herself. It doesn’t give enough light, however. The pillars stand in half circle in the garden do, glowing orange like giant candles. The light also glows on Chanyeol’s hair, on his eyes, on his smile…. It makes him look ethereal. 

 Baekhyun would have believed that he is tucked under blanket now, dreaming to his ten years crush but his heart beating too fast that it hurts, and that let him know that this is real. This is happening. 

“I swear to myself that I won’t meet you until I master this language. I want to see you and talk to you this way,” Chanyeol continues, his hands sometimes moving to emphasise the word he is saying, but mostly he doesn’t know the word. “But it’s hard. And Kyungsoo called me last week. Did I make you cry?!”

_Ah!_

That reminds Baekhyun of Sehun. He looks into Chanyeol’s eyes, trying to find guilt, discomfort, anything about Sehun but the taller just genuinely worried. So he dares himself to ask.

_Isn’t he your boyfriend?_ He asked, touching his forehead and taps his index fingers into some sort of X sign twice, switching them. 

“Ah, he was. We broke up in Prague. He had been seeing this model named Jongin and told me just when I was about to head back to Seoul,” His large expressive eyes find Baekhyun’s small ones. “I’m okay though. I know the relationship wasn’t going to work. And last week, I met up with him. He wanted to introduce me to Jongin.”

Baekhyun looks down at the bouquet of roses on his laps. He was kinda curious if there are really a hundred of them. It is so big, however. But it doesn’t matter, not now. He just… doesn’t know what to feel. Is it bad if he is sort of feeling relief?

“I’m sorry,” Chanyeol said when the smaller looks up again. His caramel eyes meets with Chanyeol rubbing his fist in circular motion across his chest, even his eyes are apologizing. “I’m sorry for making you cry. I’m sorry for making you wait. I’m sorry for the things I did wrong. But I’m not sorry for meeting you,”

A shy smile finds it way craving on Baekhyun’s cherry lips, along with blush tinting both his cheeks.

“I’m also not sorry for what our parents had arranged,” he added, scratching the back of his head sheepishly.

“But… I still want to do it properly. I want to… makeyoulikemetoo.” The last words blurted out so quickly Baekhyun barely could catch what the taller had tried to say if the knits of his eyebrows are any indicators.

“So… I want to ask you.”

There’s a funny moment of Chanyeol digging all the pockets of his clothes in his haste to find what he is searching. When he finds it, he almost drops the item—items. Baekhyun chuckles.

 It is a couple of movie tickets.

“It is a Hollywood movie! There will be subtitle,” Chanyeol explains quickly, before realizing he missed to ask the point.

So, with a nervous smile, he looks at Baekhyun, once again mesmerized why the beauty sitting across him. He exhales his breathe and presses his lips together, recalling all the lessons he had learnt this past two months.

He holds up both of his hands middle height then pulls them toward his chest.  Still with both hands, he pokes two fingers out next to his eyes and last, after a millisecond of remembering, he presses the heels of his palms together, one is above the other, the below one stays still while he shakes slightly the one on top. _As if it is people moving on screen,_ his tutor had said. Finally, he made his hands into fists and presses them together, sides of his thumbs are kissing, before he points toward himself.

A proud smile is evident on his lips upon his achievement to say them out.

_Want to watch movie with me?_

Baekhyun’s smile grows wider.

As Chanyeol slides his warm hand to Baekhyun’s smaller one, fingers wrapped together, Baekhyun hugs his flowers closer and watches the stars dancing in the sky. Prague was fairy tale. But tonight, it’s his own fairy tale. He feels like a prince- or princess. And Chanyeol, of course, the giant.

_The first meet is a coincidence. The second is a chance. And the third, it’s fate._

 

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I hope you like the story XD

**Author's Note:**

> Cross-posted from my AFF, special_nay. Please leave review? XD  
> Talk to me on Instagram @specialnay  
> or Twitter @specialnay27


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